Over the years I've become claustrophobic, and not in the cute, "Oh, she doesn't want to go into that cave," sort of way. No, I have nightmares about a crazy guy entering my house and my only way of escape is following my boys through this terrifyingly tight attic space complete with twists and turns. I push my oldest son through the final crevice and I cannot for the life of me figure out how to contort my body enough to fit. Every time, I wake a hot sweaty mess thinking, "Damn, if my life ever depends on contortionist flexibility and tight corridors, I'm screwed!"
Claustrophobia transcends itself in the water. There is no tighter space with a higher risk of suffocation than drowning! No, I didn't know this right away. I thought my funny side breath was caused by tight muscles, inexperience, and general dork-fishery. For some reason I drop my driving arm every time I take a quick bite of air, there is nothing I can do to convince that propeller to stay put. I decided a few weeks ago it was time to learn how to breathe on both sides. Perhaps that would fix my form and provide a more fluid breathing pattern. I did some research on maintaining proper form while breathing in the crawl stroke and the experiment I found was enlightening.
Try this: go to your local pool to where the water is about shoulder length deep. Take a deep breath and sink into the water, expelling your air slowly out of your mouth so that by the time your butt hits the bottom you have absolutely no air left in your lungs. Not one little ounce of air can remain but your mouth needs to stay wide open. Then, completely out of oxygen, sit there for a count of 2. Sounds simple right? Nope, it is death defying, terrifying, pure panic inducing, craziness! Holy crap it scared the junk out of me! The goal is to perform the same exercise multiple times at the beginning of every trip to the pool until you can work your way to the deep end. A 9-12 foot depth is ideal.
While I haven't worked my way past 6 feet deep, I've improved tremendously. And I've realized the fear of holding my mouth open under water when I am almost out of breath is terrifying. The problem is, tensing up in a panic makes me sink. The more natural and relaxed my body remains, the better it floats, the better it glides. It also takes half the effort. Obviously when I run out of breath and my mouth remains open, gulping for air, while still under the surface, that is a major mistake in my stroke. Something went hopelessly wrong. It doesn't happen often, but the fear of the possibility is enough to mess with my head position in the water. Instead of turning my head slightly to reach the surface, I jerked my head, twisted my shoulders, and dropped my legs. That's ineffective, and slightly embarrassing when observed second-hand.
I know it is a stupid exercise, but I took it to heart because I wanted to find out exactly what was holding me back. Clearly it was fear. Since I've identified my fears, addressed them, and focused on relaxing, I've improved my form tremendously, and learned to flip turn! I completed a continuous 2.4K today swimming the crawl stroke with flip turns at every end. What other fears are holding me back and what other weird experiments can I perform to seek them out?
~Roadburner
Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Forget the Experts - I'm Goin' Solo
One month ago, my surgeon told me to run. However, my defiant body doesn't give a crap what a doctor says. I tried it three times, each a week apart, and only for one mile of running/walking. My hips were so sore the day afterwards, I decided it wasn't worth trying again for at least a month. This last month challenged my mind more than my body. What's gotten sincerely old is everyone telling me, "Be patient, you're healing. It will happen." Never seeing dividends after the investment especially at the promised points along the calendar infuriated me. Each week, my surgeon and physical therapist became more and more surprised as to how my range of motion keeps decreasing and the entire area remains inflamed.
No, I am not doing too much. I followed the instructions of the experts very closely. I've taken this healing very personally and I've listened to my body more in the last 4 months than I have in my entire life. I find it funny that nobody comments on someone's training regimen until they get hurt. And once that person is injured, it's time to throw it their face, reminding them often they did this to themselves. Suddenly, everyone and their mother is an expert on your healing and knows what's best, because you've clearly lost the ability to think for yourself. (You're injured, remember?)
I've learned that exercise is a large part of my identity and onlookers reminding me to be patient, or hang in there, is as condescending as telling a child not to play. Exercise is how I relax and stay stable. Not being able to sweat for a extended length of time is frustrating and excruciating. I love running, but I've learned to adapt and take on new activities. To me, that is the absolute definition of perseverance... patience.
Two weeks ago, I decided to say, "Forget the experts. It's my body." Clearly what they tell me, doesn't work. For four months I've focused my attention to spinning on a stationary bike. Some days it feels really good. Others, I can't walk my kids to school after the workout. I lay awake at night in pain. It's a dull ache that slowly builds throughout the night like that annoying princess and her damn pea. Now I'm that complaining brat, who survives off a few moments rest each night. Damn.
Last June, I decided to learn to swim freestyle. The first time in the pool I looked like a drowning chicken, so I enrolled in a private swim lesson to teach me the basics and hopefully a starting point.
I survived the humiliation and came out with hoards of advice. Seven months later, I still drop my arm a bit when I breathe from the opposite
side. I am slower than most taking 20 minutes to cover a
half mile, but I've been persistent and I've improved. I'm comfortable in the water and can breathe from either side. My pool workouts are becoming less cardio efforts, and more of a sustained fat burn.
Swimming doesn't hurt. So for two weeks I've dedicated myself to swimming 4 days each week for only 30 minutes. I wanted to get out of the pool feeling refreshed, not exhausted, and leave on a good note. The days where I stay in the water for 60+ minutes, I usually fumble out of the side of the pool almost smacking my chin against the concrete lip. Part of listening to my body is not exhausting it, but building strength. It's a balance I've needed for a while.
Instead of doing my strength exercises 3-4 times a week, I complete the routine only twice. I continue to roll out my IT Bands, hip flexors, and glutes nightly. For the first time in 4 months, I haven't hurt at all for 48 hours! I feel good. I walked my son home from school today and that familiar pull and instability in my groin wasn't there. Hopefully I'm swimming in the right direction.
~Roadburner
No, I am not doing too much. I followed the instructions of the experts very closely. I've taken this healing very personally and I've listened to my body more in the last 4 months than I have in my entire life. I find it funny that nobody comments on someone's training regimen until they get hurt. And once that person is injured, it's time to throw it their face, reminding them often they did this to themselves. Suddenly, everyone and their mother is an expert on your healing and knows what's best, because you've clearly lost the ability to think for yourself. (You're injured, remember?)
I've learned that exercise is a large part of my identity and onlookers reminding me to be patient, or hang in there, is as condescending as telling a child not to play. Exercise is how I relax and stay stable. Not being able to sweat for a extended length of time is frustrating and excruciating. I love running, but I've learned to adapt and take on new activities. To me, that is the absolute definition of perseverance... patience.
Two weeks ago, I decided to say, "Forget the experts. It's my body." Clearly what they tell me, doesn't work. For four months I've focused my attention to spinning on a stationary bike. Some days it feels really good. Others, I can't walk my kids to school after the workout. I lay awake at night in pain. It's a dull ache that slowly builds throughout the night like that annoying princess and her damn pea. Now I'm that complaining brat, who survives off a few moments rest each night. Damn.
Last June, I decided to learn to swim freestyle. The first time in the pool I looked like a drowning chicken, so I enrolled in a private swim lesson to teach me the basics and hopefully a starting point.
 |
| After my private lesson everyone looked around to see if there was someone ready to drive me home. I couldn't understand why until I realized they saw the entire lesson on the waiting room television. |
Instead of doing my strength exercises 3-4 times a week, I complete the routine only twice. I continue to roll out my IT Bands, hip flexors, and glutes nightly. For the first time in 4 months, I haven't hurt at all for 48 hours! I feel good. I walked my son home from school today and that familiar pull and instability in my groin wasn't there. Hopefully I'm swimming in the right direction.
~Roadburner
Monday, June 23, 2014
Swim lessons aren't just for kids.
My physical therapist, Kevin, told me to start swimming for one hour, twice a week. Problem is, I haven't swam laps in 20 years or more. Mom and Dad, thanks for the swimming lessons, but sadly I don't remember much. My first attempt in the pool was utterly humiliating and I knew I needed a lesson to get started.
Last Friday, I walked into the SwimLabs swimming school in Highlands Ranch, Colorado. This is where my oldest son takes swim lessons so I got the private instructor at a reduced cost. The school consists of 4 tiny pools. Each one has a current running down the middle. Ideally, when you swim you shouldn't travel at all, unless the current smacks your floundering body into the back end of the pool.
While I sat in the waiting area, 10 kids ran from one side of the room to the other. One bratty kid threw a bouncy ball at a wall and narrowly missed my head repeatedly. I glared at him and his dad to no avail. "Can't they see I am a nervous wreck?" There were live feed television sets along the upper wall where parents watched their child's entire lesson without having to approach the swim floor. "Enjoy the show everyone! I can guarantee this will be good."
Once called back, I met my instructor. Amy made it clear from the start that she had no sense of humor. Either that, or she was pissed she had to work with an adult.
"Show me your freestyle. That way we can know exactly what we are starting with."
"Yeah, I don't think that is a good idea." I cowered. "It is ugly."
She assured me that was okay, but when I stuck my head in the water and propelled myself 3 strokes before gulping back a ton of water, I saw her face. She displayed a nice mix of, "Holy shit. Really?" and "Now what?"
Deciding that working on my side breath was a good place to begin she told me to hold onto a bar while the current propelled the rest of my body backwards. She repeatedly reminded me to keep one goggle in the water at all times while I took my breath, but the water current kept whipping waves high into my shoulder, water boarding me at every breath.
Amy became increasingly frustrated and saw we were getting nowhere. Each pool is equipped with mirrors and multiple cameras where instructors record your every blunder. For at least 15 seconds at a time she recorded my half attempt at a freestyle, then would replay it so we could observe my humiliation real time. "Keep your legs parallel to the water." "Look straight down." "Don't jerk your head around begging for air." "That's nice, but this time try not to slap your arms down so, um, violently."
While we compared my crude video footage to that of Olympic swimmers on the internet, Amy accidentally left the water camera aimed perfectly on my crotch. Every parent and child in the waiting room got a 5 minute long peep show. You're welcome everyone!
For the next 15 minutes we continued taking video footage of my pathetic paddling. In that time Amy exhausted every idea she used on 5 and 6 year old kids. Snorkels, "playing catch up," kicking drills, floating, etc...
We were both relieved class ended. Honestly, how much longer could that degradation continue? After shaking hands wearily and saying our goodbyes, I headed into the waiting room to gather my belongings and find a changing room. Literally every parent and child watched me with a hushed sorrow as I entered. "Okay, guys. I know it was bad. But really? Don't judge. At least I was brave enough to try." I smiled at them kindly and even waved at a few kids wanting to prove I had nothing to be ashamed of. Inside however, I howled from pure humiliation.
The changing rooms were tiny, which was fantastic because I took the opportunity to collect myself. My room sported a floor-to-ceiling mirror which finally showed why everyone gawked as I left my lesson. My image didn't look like someone firing all cylinders. Those poor observers weren't sure whether to appear proud of my feeble efforts, or question if I was hearty enough to drive home.
~Roadburner
Last Friday, I walked into the SwimLabs swimming school in Highlands Ranch, Colorado. This is where my oldest son takes swim lessons so I got the private instructor at a reduced cost. The school consists of 4 tiny pools. Each one has a current running down the middle. Ideally, when you swim you shouldn't travel at all, unless the current smacks your floundering body into the back end of the pool.
While I sat in the waiting area, 10 kids ran from one side of the room to the other. One bratty kid threw a bouncy ball at a wall and narrowly missed my head repeatedly. I glared at him and his dad to no avail. "Can't they see I am a nervous wreck?" There were live feed television sets along the upper wall where parents watched their child's entire lesson without having to approach the swim floor. "Enjoy the show everyone! I can guarantee this will be good."
Once called back, I met my instructor. Amy made it clear from the start that she had no sense of humor. Either that, or she was pissed she had to work with an adult.
"Show me your freestyle. That way we can know exactly what we are starting with."
"Yeah, I don't think that is a good idea." I cowered. "It is ugly."
She assured me that was okay, but when I stuck my head in the water and propelled myself 3 strokes before gulping back a ton of water, I saw her face. She displayed a nice mix of, "Holy shit. Really?" and "Now what?"
Deciding that working on my side breath was a good place to begin she told me to hold onto a bar while the current propelled the rest of my body backwards. She repeatedly reminded me to keep one goggle in the water at all times while I took my breath, but the water current kept whipping waves high into my shoulder, water boarding me at every breath.
Amy became increasingly frustrated and saw we were getting nowhere. Each pool is equipped with mirrors and multiple cameras where instructors record your every blunder. For at least 15 seconds at a time she recorded my half attempt at a freestyle, then would replay it so we could observe my humiliation real time. "Keep your legs parallel to the water." "Look straight down." "Don't jerk your head around begging for air." "That's nice, but this time try not to slap your arms down so, um, violently."
While we compared my crude video footage to that of Olympic swimmers on the internet, Amy accidentally left the water camera aimed perfectly on my crotch. Every parent and child in the waiting room got a 5 minute long peep show. You're welcome everyone!
For the next 15 minutes we continued taking video footage of my pathetic paddling. In that time Amy exhausted every idea she used on 5 and 6 year old kids. Snorkels, "playing catch up," kicking drills, floating, etc...
We were both relieved class ended. Honestly, how much longer could that degradation continue? After shaking hands wearily and saying our goodbyes, I headed into the waiting room to gather my belongings and find a changing room. Literally every parent and child watched me with a hushed sorrow as I entered. "Okay, guys. I know it was bad. But really? Don't judge. At least I was brave enough to try." I smiled at them kindly and even waved at a few kids wanting to prove I had nothing to be ashamed of. Inside however, I howled from pure humiliation.
The changing rooms were tiny, which was fantastic because I took the opportunity to collect myself. My room sported a floor-to-ceiling mirror which finally showed why everyone gawked as I left my lesson. My image didn't look like someone firing all cylinders. Those poor observers weren't sure whether to appear proud of my feeble efforts, or question if I was hearty enough to drive home.
~Roadburner
Friday, June 20, 2014
Staying original. It is a week of new experiences.
Cheers to trying new things.
First off, my dog demonstrated a new trick on Father's Day. After spending a few hours at brunch with my in laws, my neighbor rushed over to me literally freaking out. "Jen, did you get my texts?"
"No, sorry. I've been really busy and haven't checked my phone all morning."
"Yeah, well your dog is on the roof. I've been trying to get him down for 3 hours. Every time I go near your house, he freaks and I am worried he is going to fall!"
I thought this was a joke so I just looked at him very blankly. I looked out on the roof. Nope, no dog. My neighbor and I have a pretty light-hearted relationship, so I thought this was a new prank. That's when he whipped out his phone and showed me a series of pictures he flooded my inbox with over the last couple hours. Nope. Not a joke.
My crazy dog suffers from extreme anxiety. Desperately wanting beer and an egg skillet, he launched himself through the window screen and got stuck on the roof.
Monday morning rolled along and after a painful physical therapy appointment I headed out for a three mile run. It didn't go well. I ended up on the side of the trail, wallowing in pain and self-pity, wondering why the heck I am doing this.
Somehow that self-loathing session landed me in the pool on Tuesday where I decided I would buck up and strengthen all the stuff that Kevin swears is broken about me, which I am finding is quite the ledger. I lasted 15 minutes. That stamina was with great thanks to my half-choppy breast stroke. I tried multiple times to glide across the water effortlessly with freestyle techniques, but I would get 3 or 4 paddles through the water before I started choking down water and I inevitably panicked, which of course made me drive my feet downwards. Once I realized I couldn't touch the bottom anymore, I panicked like a drowning chicken. Humiliated, I was well aware of the girl next to me completing lap after lap and all of the parents watching their kids during a swim lesson. So mid-flail I switched back over to the breast stroke with a look of pure insecurity, "Yup. Totally what I was looking for. This is going as planned." I belong on the trails, not in water.
This beached whale doesn't want to return to the pool. However, my groin pain resonates from the hips, therefore I need to work on hip strength and stability and I'm told swimming is the best exercise. Swimming also allows my body the opportunity to increase its aerobic capacities without overworking my legs. My physical therapist promises that once I learn to swim efficiently, the gains in my running will be exponential. So, I am headed to SwimLabs today for my first private lesson. Yes, there will be 3 other classes going on, all with small children. No, I don't have any dignity left.
Speaking of dignity, Kevin (PT) poked the last shreds of it away in the most timely manner this morning. Some days I feel like we are making great progress. The next day I wake up and I am in so much pain that I can't run a few yards. This push and pull is wearing on my spirits so Kevin suggested we make the groin sore today. He wanted me to work for about an hour stressing the area ever so slightly so that when it came time to do his typical massage on the areas, we would know exactly where the pain initiates. Our findings were really interesting. The pain actually ends in the groin. That's only a byproduct. My pain starts along the outer reaches of the gluteus. When he pushed on my glutes, I felt it in the groin.
So, he dry needled my butt today. In 5 places. And my groin. In 2 places. If you've ever had your butt electrified, it truly is an original experience.
~Roadburner
First off, my dog demonstrated a new trick on Father's Day. After spending a few hours at brunch with my in laws, my neighbor rushed over to me literally freaking out. "Jen, did you get my texts?"
"No, sorry. I've been really busy and haven't checked my phone all morning."
"Yeah, well your dog is on the roof. I've been trying to get him down for 3 hours. Every time I go near your house, he freaks and I am worried he is going to fall!"
I thought this was a joke so I just looked at him very blankly. I looked out on the roof. Nope, no dog. My neighbor and I have a pretty light-hearted relationship, so I thought this was a new prank. That's when he whipped out his phone and showed me a series of pictures he flooded my inbox with over the last couple hours. Nope. Not a joke.
My crazy dog suffers from extreme anxiety. Desperately wanting beer and an egg skillet, he launched himself through the window screen and got stuck on the roof.
Monday morning rolled along and after a painful physical therapy appointment I headed out for a three mile run. It didn't go well. I ended up on the side of the trail, wallowing in pain and self-pity, wondering why the heck I am doing this.
Somehow that self-loathing session landed me in the pool on Tuesday where I decided I would buck up and strengthen all the stuff that Kevin swears is broken about me, which I am finding is quite the ledger. I lasted 15 minutes. That stamina was with great thanks to my half-choppy breast stroke. I tried multiple times to glide across the water effortlessly with freestyle techniques, but I would get 3 or 4 paddles through the water before I started choking down water and I inevitably panicked, which of course made me drive my feet downwards. Once I realized I couldn't touch the bottom anymore, I panicked like a drowning chicken. Humiliated, I was well aware of the girl next to me completing lap after lap and all of the parents watching their kids during a swim lesson. So mid-flail I switched back over to the breast stroke with a look of pure insecurity, "Yup. Totally what I was looking for. This is going as planned." I belong on the trails, not in water.
This beached whale doesn't want to return to the pool. However, my groin pain resonates from the hips, therefore I need to work on hip strength and stability and I'm told swimming is the best exercise. Swimming also allows my body the opportunity to increase its aerobic capacities without overworking my legs. My physical therapist promises that once I learn to swim efficiently, the gains in my running will be exponential. So, I am headed to SwimLabs today for my first private lesson. Yes, there will be 3 other classes going on, all with small children. No, I don't have any dignity left.
Speaking of dignity, Kevin (PT) poked the last shreds of it away in the most timely manner this morning. Some days I feel like we are making great progress. The next day I wake up and I am in so much pain that I can't run a few yards. This push and pull is wearing on my spirits so Kevin suggested we make the groin sore today. He wanted me to work for about an hour stressing the area ever so slightly so that when it came time to do his typical massage on the areas, we would know exactly where the pain initiates. Our findings were really interesting. The pain actually ends in the groin. That's only a byproduct. My pain starts along the outer reaches of the gluteus. When he pushed on my glutes, I felt it in the groin.
So, he dry needled my butt today. In 5 places. And my groin. In 2 places. If you've ever had your butt electrified, it truly is an original experience.
~Roadburner
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